Rattling the Heat in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 8)

by Ann Charles

  “She got distracted before we got to that part.”

  “Distracted by what?” Doc asked.

  “Distracted by the knowledge that there was a lock of what Hawke believes is my hair in Ms. Wolff’s hand when they found her body.”

  Doc eyes widened. “What?” He frowned across the table at Cooper. “Is this true?”

  Cooper held his stare. “Unfortunately.”

  “Was it planted?” I asked.

  His steely gaze turned my way. “Not by me.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Honestly, Parker, I don’t know. I wasn’t in charge of tagging and bagging on that run, just investigating the crime scene.”

  My stomach bucked, either not liking his answer or the tequila I was dumping into its mostly empty hold. “Could someone have planted my hair in her hand before they shipped the body off for an autopsy?”

  “Possibly.”

  Doc picked up his glass, worry lining his face. “Maybe your hair really was in Ms. Wolff’s hand at the time of her death.”

  Cooper and I both looked at him as if he’d sprouted thick, curling horns and started bleating. I beat Cooper to the punch. “How in the hell would my hair get in her hand?”

  “Ms. Wolff called you, remember? Maybe she’d received a lock of your hair, along with Layne’s picture. One or both could have instigated the phone call.”

  Crud. I hadn’t thought of that during my afternoon of what-ifs. “Do you think the murderer gave her my hair and then … ?” I mimed slicing my neck.

  Doc shrugged. “Or someone else gave Ms. Wolff your hair. Then the killer showed up and took her out of the game.”

  Cooper sat back, arms crossed. “Jesus, the shit just keeps getting deeper.”

  “Did Prudence have anything to say about your hair and the timekeeper?” Doc asked.

  I had to ponder that for a moment or two. I’d been a little distracted by the news about the lock of hair when Prudence was talking about the timekeeper. “I remember something about the hair being tied to someone. Or was it me being tied to them? No, wait, it was the timekeeper who was using my hair to tie me to someone.”

  “What about it?” Doc pressed.

  I chewed on my lower lip. “This is why I like to take friends along to Prudence’s house.”

  “Think, Parker.”

  “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember details. I’d been standing by the window, looking out at the Open Cut. She was talking behind me through Hawke’s limp lips. “There was something about being tied to someone, that it was a bad thing.”

  Doc squeezed his forehead. “Why?”

  “It’s a no-no for the timekeeper to mess with tying. Prudence wondered if that’s why the timekeeper was killed.” Then I remembered why being tied was bad. “If I’m tied to someone, and either of us dies, then the other dies, too.”

  A mouthful of curses rolled off Doc’s tongue.

  I gripped his arm. “Listen, Doc. Prudence wasn’t sure if it was actually a done deal. Ms. Wolff may have been killed before tying me to another.”

  “Who was the other?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Prudence also wasn’t sure if the timekeeper was tying me to another to protect or cause harm.” I touched my cheek. “It was after this part of our conversation that she slapped me.”

  Cooper smirked. “You were laughing hysterically?”

  “Well, she told me I was in grave danger.”

  “I can see now why you laughed,” Doc said.

  “Did Prudence have any ideas about who might be taking the clocks?” Cooper asked.

  “No, but when I told her about the one I received, she warned me not to move the hands of the clock.”

  “You haven’t, have you?” Doc asked, his brow creasing.

  I cringed in response.

  Doc scowled and growled out another round of curses.

  Cooper’s gaze bounced back and forth between us. “What happens if you move the hands?”

  “She didn’t say,” I told him. “But she did tell me that the clock may start up on its own, and when it does, it’s not exactly a good thing.”

  “Did she explain why?” Cooper asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Figures,” Doc said. “Prudence is a pain in the ass that way.”

  Cooper harrumphed. “It must come with the Executioner title.”

  I flipped him off.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t take one of Hawke’s teeth,” Doc said.

  “She tried, but I got her to stop …” I hesitated before adding, “in exchange for something.”

  “What?” they asked in unison.

  “The next time I go see her, either I take her a trophy tooth or she’ll pull one of mine.”

  “Where are you going to find a tooth?” Cooper asked.

  I gave him a toothy grin. “How about another drink, Cooper? Or five?”

  “Touch me and you’ll regret it, Parker.”

  “I’ll be your huckleberry,” Doc said with a wink.

  “No way. I like your mouth too much,” I closed the distance between us, my eyes on his lips. “Especially when you—”

  Cooper’s hand slid between us, risking my bite. “Save it for later when you’re alone. We aren’t done here.”

  I sat back with a sigh. “There is no such thing as alone, not with you parasitically attached to my side every waking moment.”

  “So cruel.” He mocked a knife to his heart. “My heart bleeds for you. Really. Now tell me how it ended.”

  “How what ended?”

  “Prudence and Hawke. What did he say when she released her hold on him?”

  I snorted. “He called me a witch. You’d have been proud of me for keeping my feathers unruffled.”

  “I’d prefer you do one of your windmill maneuvers on him,” Doc said. “Teach the son of a bitch not to lay a hand on you.”

  “That smack was one hundred percent Prudence. Hawke told me he couldn’t remember anything after arriving at the house except being in a dark claustrophobic place.”

  Doc tipped his head slightly, his gaze focused above my head. “So, Hawke doesn’t remember telling you about the lock of hair.”

  I shook my head. “Unless his memory has returned since leaving.”

  “At least we have that working in our favor.”

  “How does Detective Hawke being even more convinced that Parker is a witch do us any good?”

  “I’m not talking about the witch part. Hawke not remembering what he told Violet gives us a window of opportunity to return to Ms. Wolff’s.”

  Return? Why? “You want me to try to make contact through the telephone again?”

  He finished his beer, focusing on Cooper. “I had something else in mind.”

  Cooper’s eyes narrowed as he held Doc’s gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that, Nyce?”

  “I need to pay another visit to Jake Tender.”

  I groaned. “No, Doc.” Last time we’d held a séance and he’d gone under, he’d almost not made it back to the surface.

  “Violet, the mirror is gone.”

  “That doesn’t mean the juggernaut isn’t still waiting there for an opportunity to come through some other way. Besides, doesn’t Hawke have police going in there every hour now?”

  “What can we do about that, Coop?”

  “Shit.” Cooper leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.

  Doc watched him with a gunslinger squint.

  “I don’t want you to take that risk,” I said, touching Doc’s arm. “We can figure out how that lock of hair got there another way. Hell, I’m still not convinced it’s my hair.”

  “How many curly-haired blondes do you think Ms. Wolff knew, Violet?” His frown stayed on Cooper even though he was talking to me. “Blondes whose son’s picture had been stuck in Ms. Wolff’s bedroom mirror?”

  “Right,” I sighed. “Okay, maybe tomorrow I can—”

&nbs
p; “Stop.” Cooper interrupted me. He lowered his hands. Tension mixed with tiredness added more jagged ridges to his face.

  I ignored him, continuing with, “What about if I—”

  “It won’t work,” Coop said. “Her apartment is too hot.”

  “Maybe Natalie—”

  “Don’t drag Beals into this.”

  “Damn it, Cooper. Quit interrupting me.”

  “Hawke told me that he thinks you put Natalie up to living in the same building. He’s keeping a close eye on her, too, because of you.”

  “That’s going to really piss her off,” I said.

  “You need to put more effort into not dragging her down with you on this one.” he said.

  There was an edge to his comment, one that sliced a little too deep. I leaned forward. “Listen, Detective, I don’t like this situation any more than you do, and I certainly don’t want to hurt Natalie in any way, shape, or form. That includes adding to her police record. However, I’m not sure if you know this, but Nat’s even more allergic to the cops than I am. She comes by it genetically. Brushes with the law make her itch to wreak large-scale havoc.” I poked him in the arm. “That’s something you need to remember, Johnny Law, if you ever scrounge up enough gumption to play Romeo.”

  His steely eyes grew frosty. “I have plenty of gumption in that department, Parker.”

  “Oh, yeah? From here, it looks more like you’re too gun-shy to do more than stand below her window and stammer.”

  “What are you doing, Violet?” Doc asked.

  He and I had discussed the topic of Cooper and Natalie becoming an item several times, and each time I’d concurred that it was probably best if I stayed back and kept my mouth shut. But something was shifting in Natalie’s head. I had seen it after her last few brushes with Cooper. His mixed messages were starting to erode the wall she’d built after he’d blown her off last time. It was my job as her best friend to spell something out to him before she started drawing hearts around his name in the snow, and there was no time like the present.

  “I’m issuing a warning,” I told Doc while holding Cooper’s glare. “You see, Cooper here keeps playing games, like holding Nat’s hand and saying things that make it sound like he’s interested in something more than friendship. If this is all a game to him, then he needs to back off and find someone else to fuck with.”

  “My private life is none of your business, Parker,” he shot back through gritted teeth.

  “It is when it begins to affect the woman who’s been my best friend for over three decades.” I tapped on the table with my index finger. “That’s thirty-plus years of love and laughter, tears and joy. When it’s all said and done, it’s my job to pick up the pieces after the next bastard breaks her heart. Keep that in mind if you like your teeth, Romeo.”

  After several more tense seconds, he nodded. “I overstepped, Parker.” His tone was repentant. “I’m sorry.”

  I scowled. “Damn it, Cooper. Quit trying to make me like you.”

  “If you two are done with your pissing match,” Doc said, “how about we get back to the situation with Ms. Wolff’s apartment?”

  “As of this afternoon,” Cooper told him, “Hawke stationed an around-the-clock patrol outside of Ms. Wolff’s door.”

  “He did?” I massaged the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension that kept cinching my shoulders tighter.

  Cooper continued, “He came back from lunch all wild-eyed and told the chief that he wanted to have the apartment watched continuously because he’d received information that someone was going to be breaking in soon to take more clocks.”

  “Crap.” Maybe Hawke had been conscious on some level when Prudence was digging around in his head, sharing his secrets.

  “There has to be another way,” Doc said. There was something about the manner in which Doc was watching Cooper that had me scratching my head. “It’s time to stop playing games, Coop. We need your help.”

  Cooper toyed with his glass, spinning it on the table. He smirked at Doc. “I’d rather keep pretending nothing’s changed.”

  “What’s going on?” I felt like I’d skipped a page of the script. It took me a moment to understand what Cooper’s fidgeting meant and grasp what was really going on under the surface between Doc and him.

  “You can only keep your head in the sand for so long.” Doc took a swallow of beer, his smile bitter when he lowered his glass. “Trust me. I know from years of experience. Like I told you the other day, bargaining with the devil won’t make it go away. It’ll only get you closer to Hell.”

  Cooper shoved his glass away. “This is so messed up.”

  “You’ll get used to it in time.”

  “If only Parker hadn’t—”

  “Placing blame won’t change anything,” Doc said. “It was there all along. It was only a matter of time until it surfaced.”

  I leaned in, lowering my voice. “We are talking about seeing ghosts, right?”

  “I don’t care what your boyfriend says,” Cooper said to me. “I’m still blaming you for fucking up my world.”

  I blew a raspberry. “If I had a dollar for every time a guy had told me that.”

  Doc glanced at me with a raised brow. “How many dollars would you have, Boots?”

  “That’s not important,” I said, waving him off, focusing on Cooper. “When we were in Ms. Wolff’s place the last time, you saw someone, didn’t you?”

  At Cooper’s nod, I clapped quietly. “I knew it! The way you paled and rushed me out of that apartment. Who was it? Who did you see? Was it Ms. Wolff?”

  My heart raced. If there was some way to find out the truth from her about her killer, it could keep my bacon from getting sizzled.

  “I saw Jake Tender,” Cooper admitted. “At least I’m pretty sure it was Freesia’s great-great uncle.”

  “There was more to it than just that, wasn’t there?” Doc’s voice was smooth, encouraging. It was no wonder he was able to get people to trust him with their money to make his living. “What happened when he noticed you noticing him?”

  Cooper looked down. “He stared at me with his dead eyes.”

  “What else?” Doc pressed.

  “I think he was trying to tell me something. His mouth moved like this.” Cooper mimicked exaggerated talking.

  I recoiled. It was too much like Prudence’s puppet show.

  “But when his mouth moved, no sound came out.”

  I turned to Doc. “What does that mean?”

  “It means Coop needs to work on developing his sixth sense.”

  “I’m not going to go out and start talking to every fucking ghost I see,” Cooper snarled.

  “Every ghost,” I repeated. “Cooper, how many ghosts have you seen since the séance?”

  He scowled at me. “They’re everywhere.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wednesday, December 5th

  I woke to the sound of somebody screaming bloody murder.

  “Parker!” Cooper’s voice cut through the commotion.

  I sat up with a gasp, holding my throat. “She got me,” I cried, panting. I pulled my hand away from my throat, expecting it to be covered with blood. My palm was wet, but with sweat.

  “Oh, fuck.” I fell back onto my pillow, blinking in the bright ceiling light over my bed.

  That’s when I realized I had company.

  Cooper stood next to my bed with bloodshot eyes, his head covered with blond shark fins. “What the hell, Parker?”

  I yanked the covers up to my neck, covering my pajama top. “What are you doing in here?”

  Movement behind him drew my gaze down over his bare chest. Multiple scars were spread across his upper body. Sheesh, he was a regular war zone under his shirt.

  Addy poked her head around from behind his black sweatpants. “Are you okay, Mom? You were screaming.”

  Oh. It all clicked into place. Another nightmare. I must have been the one screaming. Addy had gone for backup.

  “
I’m fine.” Especially now that Lila Beaumont and her sideboard full of knives, barbed hooks, and other rusted, pointy objects were nothing more than fading vapors in my head. I sat up, holding my arms wide for Addy. She rushed to me, squeezing me hard. “I’m sorry I scared you, baby.”

  “You screamed so loud,” she said against my chest.

  I petted her hair, my hands still trembling with adrenaline. “Is that why you went to get Cooper?”

  She nodded, looking up at me. “I couldn’t get you to wake up and Doc wasn’t here.”

  Yet another reason to figure out who’d killed Ms. Wolff ASAP. I hadn’t had a single nightmare the whole time Doc was in my bed. He kept me too busy in fantasyland to have any bad dreams.

  “Were you having a scary dream?”

  “Yeah, baby. It was just a nightmare.” I kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. I glanced up, meeting Cooper’s raised brow. “Sorry about that. Usually the kids aren’t close enough to hear me.”

  “Usually?” he repeated. “Do you have nightmares often?”

  “That depends.”

  Addy’s weight shifted as she relaxed.

  “On what?”

  “Several factors,” I said, keeping things vague since I had little ears listening. I pointed at Addy and then held my index finger to my lips.

  With a nod, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  I hummed under my breath for a few minutes while stroking Addy’s back. When I felt her sag against me, I put her under the covers and eased out. I tied my long, black knit sweater over my pajama top and slipped into a pair of flannel bottoms. After I shut off the lights, I listened for a moment to make sure Addy’s breathing was slow and even before stepping into the hall.

  The smell of fresh coffee hit me halfway down the stairs.

  I peeked into the living room. Natalie lay curled up on the couch, snoring lightly under the thick quilt Aunt Zoe had given her last night before going to bed. It appeared our evening with Dr. Seuss’s residents of Whoville had worn her out, but I had an inkling the exhaustion lining her face last night had more to do with working her ass off at the Galena House. Or maybe she wasn’t sleeping well over there due to the nighttime visitors she’d mentioned hearing.